Old Women Can See Through Walls.

Angel And Muse Approach From Without; The Angel Sheds Light And The Muse Gives Form (hesiod Learned Of Them). Gold Leaf Or Chiton-folds: The Poet Finds His Models In His Laurel Coppice. But The Duende, On The Other Hand, Must Come To Life In The Nethermost Recesses Of The Blood.

If I Told You The Whole Story It Would Never End...what's Happened To Me Has Happened To A Thousand Woman.

To Burn With Desire And Keep Quiet About It Is The Greatest Punishment We Can Bring On Ourselves.

Green How I Love You Green. Green Wind. Green Boughs. The Ship On The Sea And The Horse On The Mountain.

New York Is Something Awful, Something Monstrous. I Like To Walk The Streets, Lost, But I Recognize That New York Is The World's Greatest Lie. New York Is Senegal With Machines.